


Jason Todd's Spunk'd

by Paranormal_Shitness



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: 2000's throwback, M/M, don't read this if you don't fuck, lian never fucking died eat my dick, new 52 denial, pre-fuck, ruined orgams and endings, this is a porn plot but scratch busting a nut we're focused on emotional realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranormal_Shitness/pseuds/Paranormal_Shitness
Summary: Does Batman do things like this? Just single people out and masturbate on all their things?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> forgive my unbeta'd ass

Roy likes to tell himself no one's got game. Or maybe Jason just makes a guy feel like that. Who knows. He's-

Roy's glad Lian hasn't met him yet. Too confusing a person. Too moody and violent to read. It's a bit of a sharp contrast to the kid Roy had met a few times in Dick's old cape. 

Watching him walk away is somewhere between rue and relief. Night nipping at the delicate sliver of skin showing at the nape of his neck that Roy's always trying to ignore. The small meeting spot they've begun to curate is starting to boast a collection of empties, and a cast of regular faces of the strange. People to make friends with. Informants to indoctrinate. 

Roy sits back down heavy on his little lawn chair and wipes a hand over his mask trying to figure where the conversation turned sour this time.

Jason's weird sure. He and Dick can be similar but for every eye they have on the same page they've got another in places the other'd never go. He rewinds the play by play in his head and tries his damnedest to focus on every little twitch of Jason's head he can remember.

Roy got there 1:30 am near on the dot. Jason was after him by just twelve minutes. Nursing what looked like split knuckles, and a heavy limp that looked like it could be anything from a badly twisted ankle to a sprain, jacket a complete tatter. And instantly it started off with playful insults. Like always. Jason dancing around him in the small space, leaving him room, a wide birth as he found himself a beer and a smoke in amongst the garbage they liked to tend to. Then he'd popped the bottle open with his fingers, clinked it against Roy's and taken off his helmet.

That was always Roy's favorite part when he took off the helmet. It had a habit of leaving his hair just the right kind of damped and messy to imply he'd been driven over about four miles of mattress on his back. 

That was probably where things went south this was probably where things usually went south because Roy's never been polite enough not to stare no matter what anyone tried to teach him better. And he's always a moth around a flame. His signature move as a teenager. The patient knife hunter approaching a deer. Jason had looked at him right after his flushed lips had left the mouth of his bottle and said, 'You don't have the money to gawk like that, Harper.'

Hard words. Cold words. Those firm reminders Jason isn't in the ocean for a fisher so much as in a tank for a buyer and the Red Hood isn't the type to mix business with pleasure. Or to find pleasure in anything or anyone at all.

From there it was all nervous laughter, and more space. The reproach of Jason's eyes from behind the domino mask, as he circled in a little tighter despite Roy stepping away. Something like being stalked but all in plain veiw. The similarities he could draw between this man and the mother of his child-

And Jason said, 'Look nervous, Harper.'

And Roy's voice caught in his throat with his fear and his scrotum tightened uncomfortably trying to shove his testicles back into his body and he said something stupid like 'Well I should get back to Lian soon.'

Some nigh imperceptible fall in Jason's face. A chuckle without any amusement behind it. The pleasure of watching him swallow the rest of his beer hard like it was nothing but a shot and then the sight of his hunched shoulders as he turned to move back the way he'd come with no more goodbye than a swift and simple 'Don't let me keep you then.'

Nothing but a brief encounter with a lot of stupid moves. Roy slides the regrets into his hip quiver as he sets out for home. 

\--

Lian is in her bed where she should be when Roy swings by to check in on her a moment. Rose tells him he shouldn't need to worry. That it's a week day so she's got plenty of time and no Titanic obligations to pull her away. She has all the time a teenager could want.

But nothing to do with it.

He ends up circling back to the crash pad. Finds the local wino, Jerry sleeping off what looks like three empty bottles of nice champagne Jason must have bought him in the little annex at the back, and an unreasonably sized puddle of jizz sitting dead center in his chair.

It's dark in the back annex, but Roy's mask doesn't even register that as he kneels down, and shakes Jerry's arm hard. The man wakes with a start and a slew of slurred curses.

'Wattawan?' he asks finally when he seems to have his bearings.

'Did you rub your dick on my chair?' Roy asks

'Waah?'

'Did you rub your dick on my chair, Jerry?'

'Kinna question's that? I ain' no chair pervert rubs his dick on chairs. Who the- y'know I had two- Three! bottles'a thisstuff here t'nigh' you really think I could even make a stiffy? Lellone rub it all the way off on that shitty plastic nylon stripy shit aye make 'em chairs'a?'

Roy frowns at him a moment. 'Fair,' he admitts. But that's just. Weird. 'So if you didn't spunk on my chair who did?'

Jerry shakes his head and offers him a sloppy shrug. 'D'unno,' he said. 'Lotta pervs. Maybe on'a'ese pervs has a chair hard on. Prolly be on the news soon. Multiple breakins linked by serial chair jacking evidence or summin'. You know how it is around here, A.'

'Yeah,' Roy admitts. 'Get back to sleep jerry.'

\--

He collects a sample before dragging the chair outside and hozing it off. Just in case Jerry's right about some perv serial chair jacking all the way across Gotham. Seems silly but weird shit happens in Gotham.

\--

Can't find anything on the news about chair perverts or masturbatory breakins when he gets home so he just puts the sample in the freezer and forgets about it. Things seem normal when Rose takes Lian to school the next day. And when she comes back with some groceries. Roy pays her for her services, tells her to stay as long as she wants, and says he has an errand to run before ducking out so she can do whatever it is teenagers do unsupervised. He hopes it's not heroin.

Everything seems the same when he gets back with his beer. Rose is on the couch watching reruns or Paranormal Witness. He says hey to her as he walks into the bedroom but she doesn't say anything back. Typical. He's thinking maybe he'll catch a few more hours of sleep before he's gotta pick Lian up from school when he turns the light on and finds his bed a mess, blankets all crumpled up, and thrown around, a puddle of spunk dead center of the mattress.

'Rose!'

'What?!' she shouts from the living room.

'Did anyone get into the house while I was gone?'

'No, why?'

'You're sure? You didn't let anyone in? I promise I won't be mad if you say you did.'

There's a moment of silence as he hears her get up off the couch and follow him down the hall. 'What the hell? No. Who would I even let into your shitty-'

'Yeah,' he says as she peers into the room past his arm.

'No way. I didn't let anyone in, I swear. And the alarms didn't go off or I'd have called you. No one came in or out while you were gone,' she insists, eyes fixed on the bed.

'Well this was made when I left it, and there wasn't any-

'Jesus I know I can smell it from here. Someone needs to lay off the red meat.'

'Doesn't match my diet,' he comments casually.

'Good to know.'

'Would you believe me if I said this wasn't the first time this has happened?' he asks.

She fixes him with a withering look. 'So Jack Whack-it's targeting you as a spunk receptacle?'

'WHo's Jack Whack-it? Is he a serial mastrbator?'

'Dude what? Gross. I just came up with it.'

\--

He has some guys from Ollie's crew put the sample through the system. 

\--

Few days go by. Not a single event. The testing results on the spunk don't turn up any hits. He hasn't seen Jason since the last time he accidentally blew the guy off, and Dick's out of town so he's starting to think maybe it's time to bug out before he gets spunked again when he stops for a moment to check in on their little safety meeting spot.

Jason's already sitting in the other chair when Roy walks in. Hands folded in his lap, helmet the only thing blocking what Roy is sure is direct and unwavering eye contact. It's like some kind of dominance play. There's no telling how long the guys been here but he's been waiting. Waiting for Roy to show up and do something.

It's instant panic as he looks around the room trying to spot anything out of the ordinary. 

He's at a complete loss until his eyes fall on his chair and he notices it.

A puddle of jizz. Dripping through the nylon rungs onto the concrete underneath.

'Jason,' Roy says very calmly, 'Did you do this?'

Jason just keeps sitting there, looking at him. The room is death quiet. Jason crosses one leg over the other. Cocks his head. Waits.

Roy can't decide whether to look at him or at the jizz. He feels almost like a man coming home to find his Dog used his couch as a toilet all day and is waiting to see how he'll respond.

'Why?' he asks, 'Would you do this?'

Jason huffs air at him, and it whistles through the modulators in his helmet like knives on a chalkboard before he silently stands up, and walks out the door. Their shoulders brush very deliberately as he passes.

What. The fuck?

\--

So Jason's whacking off on his things. 

It's gotta mean something, but Roy can't really put it together. Every new puddle just leaves him more confused. 

How's he supposed to react to this? What does it mean? Is it some kind of Bat dominance behavior he hasn't come across yet? Dick is admittedly the most approachable Bat. Does Batman do things like this? Just single people out and masturbate on all their things? No it's not all his things. The chair. His bed. The chair. His shower. The bed and the couch and the chair in that safehouse he keeps in town for hookups. Jason's only leaving him 'presents' in places where he's- 

Oh so this is a game. Some kinda riddle. A series of clues.

Jason's only jacking it where Roy's already bust a nut.

Maybe Roy hasn't been bombing his game as badly as he thought he was.

So clues strung together maybe. Time to put his hypothesis to the test. 

\--

It's a game. And it's Jason so he's walking a razor wire here trying not to fall to his death by offending a really big fish who's not exactly prone to getting caught.

He makes his move very carefully. Does his best to follow the guidelines Jason's slowly laying out for him.

Waits until he's sure no one's around their shared haunt, locks the door, and leaves sure evidence of his actions splattered across Jason's seat.

Now the only trick is waiting for a response.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my mailbox gave big beautiful birth to the world's tiniest little sharpstone today. pink. the size of a man's big toe. so now we can grind a big toe's worth of herb at a time. named the thing Lian. here's hoping she grows strong and tremendous.

Jason leaves him waiting near a full week for a response. Keeps himself guarded, and distant enough that Roy thinks maybe he's overstepped a boundary, and fucked it all up by playing back.

His response comes a week later, while Roy's staking out a group of petty thieves who recently mugged one of the Red Hood's pleasure houses for the take in the cashbox. He's figuring it'll be a good looking move in Jason's eyes. Jay's protective of people in his line of work, and doesn't like his girls being mistreated, so delivering a little payback's gotta restore a guy to good grace. It's sound logic.

The asshole's are holed up in a motel that's nearly floating between Midtown and Uptown, parking lot jutting off on a heavy slab that sinks straight into the harbor. A place that probably would have been a dock if not for the constriction of this finger of the river. The perfect place for a group of runners. By Roy's audio taps, it sounds like they're all just tucking themselves into bed when someone full on collides with him from behind.

He makes an indignant squawking sound as he catches himself on the wall to keep from tumbling headfirst out the window of the abandoned building he's been squatting in the last six hours.

There's a moment of panic. The true, and terrible knowledge that someone has caught him completely flat footed, and he has no idea how. Well maybe it's because he's always been a little self absorbed and in his own head, but now's time for self deprecation. Now's the time to make sure he can get home to-

This is about when he realizes that his attacker's hands are on the crests of his hips. Moving lower. Kind of taking their time to do it.

'Hey, so could you like please identify yourself as an ex-Robin before I start freaking out about being sexually assaulted?'

A whistle of air hisses through what sounds like a modulator, and cool, hard, smooth polycarbonate presses into the first rung of his cervical vertebrae just before Jason's hand slides down to curl over the outline of his cup. Fuck of all the times to be wearing the thing. Of all the nights for him not to be a forgetful ass with his own penile safety. 

'Look nervous, Harper,' Jason says, voice low, quiet.

Another hiss of air whistles through Jason's helmet, this time right under his ear, high and whining. Then, the Red Hood cants his hips in, and up, just hard enough to show Roy how hard he is.

He's gone before Roy can turn around. The room's empty before he can even decide if all this is real or sleep deprivation induced hallucinations.

He knows one thing though. There's no way he's not rubbing one out real quick before he goes and beats the hell out of these douche bags he's been watching. And it's really unlikely he's doing it without an audience. 

\--

He gets home as the sun's coming up. Finds the weekend baby sitter sleeping on the couch, her curly white hair the only part of her that defines her as not a pile of blankets in the dim morning light. He leaves her pay in an envelope on the coffee table, and lays himself down to sleep. But he can't stop thinking about the whole thing.

It's a little weird. Right?

This whole thing is-

Way unusual.

But then again Jason's the bat who lives his moniker most. As far as Roy can tell he doesn't leave home unsuited.That helmet is his answer to some sort of- something or other that would be crippling probably. Roy's only seen him take it off a handful of times since he met him again. And only in the most private of situations.

He's so much different. You could guess death would do that to a guy though. He probably should have at least. 

Back when Jason has been in pixie boots he'd crashed Dick and Roy playing Sonic and snuck a few kisses while his brother was out of the room.

The Red Hood isn't that kid though. He's grown, and back to working. Not streets, but high end bedrooms. It makes sense that he might be-

Scared? To find himself actually wanting to engage in all this shit. Gotta be a weird dichotomy. But what would a workless man know about those kinds of things?

Jason's grown up to be complicated in a much different way than Dick. 

Thinking about maybe having some kind of relationship with him is still nice though. He just hopes that if this- whatever it is -ends up being anything else he's good with Lian.

\--

Okay, Roy decides that morning. Weird niche fetish behavior is no basis for any serious relationship. Serious relationships are based more on shit like caring, and kind gestures. Like when he'd cracked into Jade's hard heart by being observant enough to know what kind of presents to buy her.

So there's no talking to Jason, or looking at Jason, or even initiating contact with Jason. But that doesn't mean there's not a connection with him. Roy drops by a grocery store on the way to the crash pad to pick up one of those two pound tubs of dates. 

When he gets there, Jason's skulking about with a beer, the front of his helmet open, his back turned just enough that Roy can only make out the silhouette of his face.

He puts the dates on Jason's chair without saying anything, before standing back to watch. This trick is a bit of a gamble. Something he remembered about Dick, which had reminded him of the short moment when Jason was in the tower. The two of them fighting over the last handful of dates in the pantry.

Jason goes on alert as he sees Roy move unusually through the room, but he doesn't move until the other man's back where he ought to be. 

Roy watches him turn, face coming into view. The tops of his cheeks jump against the restraint of the domino mask he's wearing. The tiniest twinge of excitement. To Jason's benefit he tries to keep it under wraps as he approaches the chair, and picks up his present.

'He holds the tub up, brandishing the label in Roy's direction, grinning. 'Hey you got any nuts to go with these?'

Maybe Jason hasn't grown up at all.

\--

Bats are weird. But they're consistently weird. Jason follows him home that night, and sits on his couch, watching a tv, as he eats through half the tub. So Gotham's bats are fruit bats. Makes sense. Excuses why they all seem to have cute faces.

Jason doesn't offer him any dates. Just seals them up when he''s done, and slides them under his couch. 

'I'll be back for these,' he says, and then walks into Roy's bedroom.

For some reason Roy just sort of lets this happen. He's got a feeling he knows what's going on after the door shuts, but he just sits there, in full costume, Chanel surfing until it opens again because he knows the rules with Jason by now. You don't approach Jason if you're smart.

The Red Hood moves down his hallway near silently, stopping at the back of the couch to put on his jacket and helmet, the door to put on his boots. Roy watches him almost mask a backwards glance before he steps out the door.

Damn.

He never would have considered himself a sheet sniffer before but everyone hits new lows. Could be worse. Could be low enough to need heroine. But there's nothing proud in this that's for sure. Still it's nice thinking about what their skin would look like lined up. How Jason looks when he comes. What he sounds like. And it's easier to do that somewhere that smells like him.

\--

It's kinda got him feeling weird once this turns into a regular thing, but he can't put his finger on it. It's probably the inequality of it. Maybe, but it's gotta be a fair inequality right. Roy is the only guy who's not paying at this point, so it would be polite to expect anything. Jason's not Dick. It doesn't seem like he likes sex the same way. A guy'd be a dick to assume he does.

It is only a matter of time though, Roy knows, before he catches him red handed. And what happens then is the real worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why it's all children here now? this used to be where adults came to be alone

What happens when he catches Jason is he chickens the fuck out. But that's chill. Or he tells himself it's chill. Jason kind of seems like he's chickened out a few times. Or maybe this is all part of some Gotham mating dance. It's hard to tell. Dick isn't like this but Dick's the friendly one. Maybe Jason doesn't mind the slow approach though. He doesn't bother to make it obvious he knows Roy's lurking around out of sight but somehow Roy doubts he's unaware.

He doesn't watch. He just listens. Back pressed to the wall outside his own bedroom. Ears pricked.

The door standing just the slightest bit ajar is a blatant invitation, but they're hovering on such a delicate precipice. What kind of mad man pushes Jason Todd?

Jason stops as he steps out the door. Shoots Roy a sideways glance through his domino mask that's so confident it's fingertips brush hubris. Like if icarus was that one teenage boy who had to jump up and touch every overhang.

He pats Roy on the dick as he walks by out the front door.

Good thing Lian's at school. This is crazy. This is absolutely insane.

\--

The rules are a little shaky. But mostly that's because they haven't been laid out. At all. At least Dick, with all his demanding diva shit, is clear about what happens when. Dick's a dance with the steps all laid out. One of those old steps everyone over a certain age knows. Jasons more like a tap dance. The tradition's there but he's-

Unpredictable. It's imporv. And Roy's only good at improv when it's comedy based. Because comedy is easy. Laughing at yourself for being an absolute joke is easy. It's true.

Managing to beat Batman in suave points? 

The kind of endeavor that veres into comedy every time. Worse so if you try to take it seriously.

And Roy's met Tommy Elliot. He doesn't wanna be the next red head getting laughed at by Jason Todd. The kind of shit it does to an ego.

Just devastating. Enough to make him almost wanna feel sorry for the guy. 

But maybe Jason's dictating terms a bit too much. Maybe Roy's letting him take too many miles. What's that thing Babs is always saying about Robins with inches and light years? Bruce sure does pick 'em bratty. Which one of the differences between his boogie man and Ollie's. Roy had been a pretty damn docile kid until the day he got fed up enough to slam heroine and aged thirty years on the spot.

Jason gets turning points like that. He's got his own toxic shit in his veins, pulling on him, holding him in mental patterns. Stunting him internally.

He opens the door with a bare face, and that's probably the biggest sign Roy's had so far that he's not fucking this up.

Yet.

'Hey,' he says. 'Bring me any offerings?'

Roy hands him a tub of dates, and Jason walks away from the door with it. Casually. Door wide open for Roy to follow. Like a normal pair of twenty somethings. Roy flips all ten of the locks inside and Jason's cheeks curl up into his eyes as he cocks his head.

'Trouble on a case, Arse?' he asks.

Roy chuckles lightly because of course Jason's still fucking teasing him even now. Maybe that's never been a bad sign. He's so damn hard to read. 

'If you'd call yourself that,' Roy teases back.

Jason looks incredulous for a moment before he rolls his lips together to suppress a smile. Nervous hands spin the tub of dates over themselves for something to do. 

Did he just fluster Jason Todd? Did he just see it in full? The whole chalupa right there on a plate. Jason probably would have blushed if the Lazarus pit hadn't completely stolen all the color on his face. 

'Well I'm glad to know the smear campaign against me already has you convinced I'm trouble,' he says.

'You like being trouble,' Roy accuses as he kicks his shoes off.

Talia's safe house is sparse. Jason lives in it on her time and he knows it. And as a typical bat he just doesn't have much to call his either. The only signs anyone's been here any time recently are the guns lying disassembled on the coffee table, half way through a cleaning.

Jason laughs at him as he makes his way into the small kitchenette, and drops the dates on the counter by a tub of Ovaltine. Bats and their sugar coated teeth. Always so sweet when they bite down in that moment before you realized they went too deep.

'Well if it's not trouble then what brings your dusty ass skulking around my generous patron's door step?' Jason asks.

'Mean,' Roy whispers more to himself than anyone.

Jason laughs.

'I was wondering if you,' Roy pauses, choking on his own nerves and the whole comedy of trying to live up to Batman again. 'Wanted to do anything?'

Jason gives him a skeptical look.

'Tonight?' Roy presses.

Jason's face falls from amused to flabbergasted. His mouth, Roy's always looking at it - he wants to kiss it, is open when he looks away and then back again. 'Roy,' he nearly hisses, leaning over the Kitchen table. 'What the fuck do you think you're doing?'

'What?- I-'

'Come with me outside,' Jason says, already having rounded the table back into the entry way so he can grab Roy's arm and drag him back out the front door. He doesn't even stop to let Roy put his shoes back on. 

'What are you thinking?' he asks. 'You know I can't do anything like that. I'm not in the dating market. I'm already shacked up with Talia. Drive me,' he insists then, depositing Roy at the driver's side door of his car and rounding the front for the other door.

Roy starts the engine as Jason buckles himself in. 

'Where?' he asks, because this behavior is as confusing as anything Jason's ever done.

'Just drive. Take me out by the reservoir I wanna see the big fake waterfalls.'

He's lying. And Roy can tell. Which is unusual but he drives anyway.

Jason's quiet. Face impassive. He doesn't play music. Street lights catch in the white roots under his bangs. When Roy turns the engine off, Jason takes his feet down off the dashboard and looks at him hard over the center console. 

'You get what's goin' on don't you?' he asks.

Roy shakes his head 'no' and His eyes roll over so hard it looks like they'll end up bouncing down a runoff gutter and out to sea. 

'Talia pays for that house Roy. You can't come to my sugar momma's house where I live on her dime to ask me on a date.'

When he puts it like that it makes a lot of sense. It make Roy feel like a total idiot. 

'Forget it man,' Jason says then.

He puts his feet back up on the dashboard, and they sit in silence watching the moon glitter on the water of the reservoir. 

'You know we can't date like normal right?' he asks then.

'Yeah,' Roy says under his breath.

'What'd you expect, Roy?' Jason's eyes are hard when he looks at them.

'I dunno,' Roy admits. His hands feel kind of limp on the steering wheel. 

'But I mean you know I'm not just working on the side. Talia's my main source of income. I mostly invest what comes out of Gotham back into Gotham. I'm not taking cuts of drugs and girls, and dirty construction jobs for my dime. It's philanthropy and not the kind Bruce gets. I'm not financially independent. I have obligations. And they come first. Before even me. You know that.'

'Yeah,' Roy agrees.

Jason's toes tighten on the faux leather material of the dashboard. 'Don't mope at me, you'll make me sad,' he complains.

Roy gives him a half hearted cuckle but there's nothing behind it.

'Harper,' Jason says then, voice hard enough to beg a response, face hard enough to be illegible.

Roy opens his mouth to ask what he wants, and Jason's tongue is in it before he can register what's even happening. He tries to keep his bearings, pull away for a second to ask for further clarification, but Jason's already clambered over the center divider somehow, and wedged himself between the steering wheel and Roy's lap.

'God you're so stupid, and pathetic,' Jason says against his jawline. His fingers are as greedy as metal when they till their way through his hair.

'That doesn't seem like a very nice thing to say when you're grinding on me,' Roy chastises.

Of course he's not listened to. He's never listened to. Jason is almost somewhere else entirely now. Somewhere he doesn't really get. Maybe the same place Dick goes when there's the scent of cum in the water.

'Big hands,' Jason says intelligibly as he drags Roy's hands off the steering wheel and onto his thighs. 'Big,' and then he groans soft in his throat.

Wow. To Think of Jason Peter Todd not being able to string together a sentence.

'I thought you said we can't,' Roy says, tone taking on a bit of Jason's previous teasing. 

Jason whines, says something Roy can't make out, and rolls his hips. 'We could,' he insists.

'Yeah and how does that work?'

'Secret,' Jason mumbles into his hair line.

'Oh you want me to be your dirty little-'

'M-mm clean,; Jason insists, still rolling his hips into Roy's pressing into his sweatpants and into Roy's stomach.

Roy tries to get a look at him but he can't in all the movement. There's no holding him still. He's jumping like a live wire in Roy's lap like he's come to some sudden unforeseen breaking point. And he's not making any damn sense. It can't be helped. The whole thing. The whole ridiculous situation. Jason a mass of contradictions and oddities, climbing into his lap, and calling him clean. It's rich. Roy's laughing and Jason's whining against his ear like he's getting none of this. Like he can't feel Roy having some kind of break of his own.

Hands on shoulders, and backs. Jason's scrambling for purchase while Roy's trying his damnedest to catch a grip of what's going on. His fingers wrap hard around Jason's biceps and jerk him back into the wheel so the horn blasts out in the middle of the deserted stretch of road they're sitting on. 

Jason's the one who laughs this time. 'Wanna,' he trails off to groan a moment, ' I want,'

And that is the one thing Jason's never talked to him about isn't it? What he wants. 

He's all plans and eventualities. A list of 'have to's and 'cannot's. Rules. Jason's been telling him the rules the whole time. The rules are hands off. But Jason doesn't like the rules.

'Think about it,' he whines, and Roy lets him lean forward again even when he probably shouldn't. 

This is stupid. He has a kid. Roy can't get involved in all this crazy red tape. Jason's too much to handle. He's a liability. He swears and drinks and leaves guns unattended on the coffee table still loaded. He always looks like fresh sex. Bats always look like-

Jason's jacking himself off through his sweatpants, face buried into the crook of Roy's neck, and this is not the best case scenario for how the night could have gone but all things considered it's not the worst. 

Fingers dig into the back of his shoulder. The body in his lap goes rigid as he drags his fingers up under Jason's tank top along his spine.

The Red Hood cums, sitting in Roy's lap, crooning the word Daddy into his flannel shirt just like his brother. Then he quiets, curls up against Roy's chest the way Dick, or any Gotham bird might.

'You want it too,' he mumbles into the armpit of Roy's shirt.

Roy leans his chair back and lets Jason sleep on him.

\--

They don't mention it when they wake up. Jason winces as he pulls sticky, dried fabric off his pubes, and slides back into the passenger's seat but that's about it. They don't talk. Jason doesn't look at him. When they get back to the place Jason's staying he makes him wait in the car, and limps his way inside without a second glance back. Roy knows he won't be getting those shoes back for a while.

Jason said 'Clean' but that's none sense.

As he's driving back home to take Lian to school with bare feet, he picks up his phone. You're not supposed to dial and drive but a man shouldn't slam heroin and fuck either and he wouldn't have a family today if he'd never made that mistake. The numbers feel more than familiar when he punches them in. One of the first ones he'd ever memorized.

Dick picks up with all the morning grace of a Bat on the fall.

'Hey,' Roy says softly into the receiver. 'Long time no talk.'


End file.
